


Happy Hour

by eastwood



Series: Bartender with Benefits [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, catching feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 11:03:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13480140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eastwood/pseuds/eastwood
Summary: Nothing wrong with looking for a way to break up the daily grind.





	Happy Hour

Gabe doesn’t think too hard about why he’s going to the bar. He’d finished work late, stopped by the gym, and had a cursory dinner at home, leaving himself with a scant couple of hours to fill before he should be asleep. It’s only Wednesday and the week has been dragging by excruciatingly slow, piled up with overtime, which is really all the excuse he needs to escape and have a few drinks.

Except when he’d tried sitting around in his apartment with nothing to do but drink alone, watch TV, and exchange rude texts with Jack about football, there was just a persistent itch in the back of his mind reminding him _it’s only Wednesday_ and that means he won’t see Jesse another two nights if he doesn’t do something about it.

He can’t bring himself to break routine by asking Jesse to come over in the middle of the week, though. Doesn’t matter that the routine had evolved itself a little from weekend night hookups, he still only messaged Jesse on Fridays, or vice versa, and it was simply not discussed why Jesse ended up staying over sometimes as late as Sunday afternoon.

They had a lot of sex but still, not possibly enough fill entire days. It left plenty of time for mocking and teasing and arguing about useless things like the right way to fold socks or which of the two closest delis had better rye bread, in between Gabe taking care of his usual errands that accumulate over the week and Jesse lounging on the couch and going for a smoke and coming back with lunch from the corner shop and, of course, a lot of sex.

Still, just going out for a couple drinks. That’s all Gabe wants to do, so it’s what he does, and if he thinks about what the look on Jesse’s face will be when he sees him unexpectedly then it’s because he hasn’t seen it before.

A short walk down a few blocks brings him there, and he steps inside the door past another guy leaving to see that it’s more crowded than he had expected, the bar almost full and every table occupied. He finds Jesse at the far side of the room engaged in a smiling conversation with some couple, in uniform with a black half apron and white collared shirt and his hair neatly tied back, looking more clean cut than Gabe has ever seen him besides the vague memory of a minute-long first conversation months ago.

Gabe makes it to the bar as Jesse spots him and does a double take, then lights up beaming. By the time Gabe is sitting down Jesse is there in front of him, leaning on the bar top crooked grin and all, saying in a low teasing voice, “Hey there, stranger. You come here often?”

“Not if I can help it,” Gabe answers.

“Must be my lucky day, then,” Jesse says. “What can I get you, sugar?”

“Have any other bartenders back there?” Gabe asks, making a point to look him up and down, skeptically. He has to admit, Jesse cleans up nice. “Somebody who’s less of a shithead, maybe?”

Jesse grins wider. “Sorry, sweetheart, fresh out. Think I’ve got a new bottle of single malt with your name on it, though. How about some of that?”

Gabe waves a hand: _go ahead_. That sounds like it would hit the spot. He sits back to watch as Jesse selects a bottle and a clean glass, hands moving sure and steady as he unscrews the cap and pours out a double.

Gabe takes it and has a taste. Smokey and strong, decent enough. Then he asks, “You going to stand there and watch me the whole time?” looking at Jesse from over the rim of the glass, smirking faintly.

“Just making sure my favorite customer is satisfied,” Jesse says, and winks, unabashed.

Then someone calls, “Jesse!” from the other end of the bar, making Jesse’s smile twist wryly. “I’ll be right back,” he says to Gabe. “Yell if you need anything.”

Gabe sips at his scotch slowly, watching as Jesse gets pulled between several customers and a coworker, mixing drinks and uncapping beer bottles and fetching frosted glasses. He grins and talks with everyone while he works, laughing at a joke, responding with another, glancing back at Gabe every now and then.

He comes over as soon as Gabe finishes the last of his drink. “Another?” he asks, and Gabe nods, pushing the glass to him. “Sorry it’s so busy, darlin’, normally I’d have time to chat,” Jesse says, pouring out a second double. “Glad you came, though. This week feels like it’s already been about eight days too long.”

Gabe hums, agreeing, but before he can say so Jesse is being called away again, leaving him with an apologetic wince.

He can’t recall if Jesse had been this busy the first time he’d come in, way back when. Mostly he remembers coming here to drink off a bad mood, and getting ticked off worse by the bartender that kept smirking and calling him sugar and honey like a joke at his expense when he must have looked the exact opposite of sweet. At least up until he’d gotten a name and number on a scrap of napkin and realized the asshole wasn’t kidding, and might actually look pretty good on his knees. He’d been right about that last part, at least.

Gabe rations his drink meanwhile, and gets distracted by the football game playing on the TV in the corner. Jesse comes by when his glass goes dry, shooing off the waitress that happens to notice Gabe before he can get there, but then he has to answer someone else who needs his attention yet again without hardly getting two words out.

When Gabe’s done with his third drink he feels it creeping warm through him. Jesse kept giving him these double pours, so he may as well be on his way to drunk. He’d been tired before he got here, and now he’ll be able fall asleep as soon as his head hits a pillow, but still he waits for Jesse to get back to him and ask if he wants one more.

“No thanks,” Gabe tells him. “I’m starting to think you’re just looking for a big tip.”

“Sounds good, sugar, and I know you’ve got one for me,” Jesse says, only leering at him now. “Don’t worry about the bill, though. My treat.”

Gabe raises an eyebrow, and Jesse smirks wider and leans in to murmur, “Boss ain’t here tonight, so don’t tell anyone.”

“He must love having hired you,” Gabe says.

“Honey, I am _universally_ loved,” Jesse drawls, affecting a haughty look down his nose before he breaks it with a grin. “And the customers would cry if I got fired, so he wouldn’t dare.”

“I’m sure,” Gabe replies. Then, “How much longer until your shift’s over?”

Jesse pauses at that, just gazing at him, and drags his teeth over his bottom lip. “Last call’s in ten minutes, I can be out in thirty.”

“Can I borrow a smoke?” Gabe asks next. Jesse nods and digs out his pack of cigarettes and lighter from a back pocket, setting both on the bar top for him. Gabe takes them. “I’ll wait outside.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Jesse says, smiling more softly than before. “Won’t be long.”

Gabe finds a spot to stand out of the way of the lingering weeknight foot traffic and smokes through two of Jesse’s cigarettes one after the other, idly turning the pack over and over in one hand while he waits. He hadn’t planned on staying late enough to actually bring Jesse home with him, but now that he’s here he doesn’t really know how he had expected to just drop in for a little while and be satisfied with that. Or maybe it’s only because Jesse has gotten him oiled up on free drinks, though Jesse himself had seemed surprised as well. And Jesse didn’t turn him down either—though, when has he ever.

Either way Gabe’s known he’s been in trouble for a while, so perhaps it’s safe to say that once a week is no longer going to cut it. He closes his eyes for a moment and butts the back of his head against the brick wall behind him, blowing out smoke in a slow stream as he runs that thought by a few times until he’s certain it’s true, and equally certain he doesn’t want to say it out loud any time soon.

“Hey stranger,” comes the familiar, amused voice next to him. Gabe opens his eyes to find Jesse standing in the yellow light from the street lamps back in his usual jacket, white button-up nowhere to be found, with his hair down again and thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans, a smile playing over his face.

“Hey,” Gabe says, and reaches for him.

Jesse fits into the curve of one arm easily, accepts a few kisses sweetly, then asks, murmuring into his mouth, “How’d you know how bad I wanted to see you tonight, baby?”

“Guess it really is your lucky day. Text me next time,” Gabe says, even though he’d talked himself out of doing the same thing a dozen different ways. Doesn’t matter.

Jesse hums, and lets Gabe kiss him again, before he says, “Honey, as much as I like this, and believe me I really do, I’d rather not stick around until my coworkers start leavin’ too. They‘re gossipy shits when they want to be.”

Gabe snorts. “Yeah.” He tosses the rest of the cigarette to the ground and stands up from the wall, keeping his arm where it is around Jesse’s waist. “Let’s go.”

 

Jesse is on him before the front door closes, mouth hot and needy against his, arms coming up to circle his neck, pressing himself into Gabe in one long hard line of his body. Gabe catches him, hungry for it all, pushing Jesse’s jacket off to let it drop to the floor, thumbing the fly of his jeans open and dragging them down.

They leave a trail of their clothes down the hallway to the bedroom, falling naked into bed and fitting together with the mindless ease of familiarity.

“God,” Jesse breathes minutes later, pressing his face into his own bent arm, flushed down to his chest with his legs splayed apart as Gabe mouths at his cock and fingers him open luxuriously slow. “God,” he says again, “ _Gabe_.”

Gabe licks up the length of him one last time and pulls his fingers free, feeling freshly drunk just off the sound of his name. He gets back over Jesse to kiss him while he pushes one of Jesse’s knees up and sinks in all at once, both of them groaning with relief even as Gabe starts moving, over-heated and dizzy with it.

He doesn’t last long, not by any standard, unable to focus beyond having Jesse underneath him, the taste of sweat and skin so easy to reach, the inevitable burst of climax behind his closed eyes, and finally the humid smell of sex rising off them in the aftermath as they lie spent and tangled together.

“You’re so good,” Jesse mumbles where his lips are pressed to Gabe’s neck, not kissing, just smashed there.

Gabe only hums, doesn’t even open his eyes or move from the way he’s strewn half over Jesse’s sticky chest. He doesn’t have to, since they both asleep within minutes anyway.

 

His alarm goes off at the usual time. Gabe slaps at it, hits the mattress instead, and has to sit up and glare before he realizes he’s on the wrong side of the bed. Then he stretches over across Jesse, who’s somehow still under him, and turns it off before rolling onto his back, rubbing at his head.

Only decades of discipline pry him out of bed, simmering with a low-grade rage for everything that’s conspired to make this a weekday morning. On a Saturday he could put off his run as late as he wanted, or skip it altogether. If he skipped it today he might end up putting a fist through somebody at work later.

Thankfully he’s able to be out the door and on the street within a few minutes, warming up out of habit before he sets into a hard pace, pushing through the miles until he can only concentrate on the deep pull of his lungs and forcing one foot in front of the other.

He finishes with his mind blank and settled, feeling the sweat almost steaming off his skin in the chill morning as he trudges up the stairs, back to his apartment, and directly into the shower where he makes the water as hot as he can stand.

Jesse is still asleep when he comes out and he gets dressed quietly, pulling on slacks and a shirt from the closet and doing his tie in the mirror on the door. He grabs his suit jacket last, then goes to the bed and smooths a hand over the back of Jesse’s warm bare shoulder, causing him to stir.

Jesse sighs and turns his head to look up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Hi gorgeous,” he murmurs. “Don’t you look nice.”

“I’m going to work,” Gabe says. “I’ll put a key by the door. Lock up when you leave.”

“‘Kay,” Jesse says, eyes drifting shut again, and Gabe hesitates just for a second before he goes.

 

_11:13 - door locked ♡_

_11:13 - took some expensive shit since you weren’t here to stop me ♡♡_

_11:14 - what should I do with your key?_

Gabe sees the messages hours later on his lunch break, taken in his office with the blinds shut and door locked so nobody interrupts him for ten goddamn minutes. He thumbs back a reply: _bring it over later_

And receives a response shortly after: _when later?_

Gabe has to think about it long enough that he finishes his lunch and gets back to work, idly thumbing through reports. He won’t be home until after Jesse starts his shift, and then Jesse wouldn’t be done until around midnight. Gabe isn’t going to make the mistake of stopping by the bar two nights in a row, no matter if all he’s doing is picking up his key; who knows how many drinks that’d end up costing him. Tomorrow is Friday, he can tell Jesse to come over then as usual.

His phone starts ringing before he sends a text, though, and the next time he remembers Jesse is waiting on an answer it’s nearly 5 o’clock and he’s still got at least two more hours worth of bullshit to get through.

 _tonight_ , he messages back at last, in what might be considered a moment of weakness. At least it gives him something to look forward to, if not the easiest morning afterwards.

 

Gabe makes it home well past dark. He takes what food is left in his fridge for dinner, and tries not to fall asleep on the couch while waiting.

He doesn’t succeed, waking up with an irritated growl to the knock on his door. The damn fool has a key, no need to make him get up. But he does, going to answer the door, and there’s Jesse brightening up to see him.

“Here you are, darlin’,” Jesse says, holding out the spare key, then adds, hesitantly, “You look like shit. Long day?”

Gabe sighs, and takes back his key to toss it on the table by the door with a clink. “Yeah.”

“Well,” Jesse says, shoving his empty hands into his jacket pockets. “You need anything? I don’t have to get home right away.”

“You think I’d stay up this late if I wasn’t going to get something out of it?” Gabe asks, quirking a brow. “That’s cute.”

And Jesse grins, so Gabe opens the door wider and moves out of the way to let him in for the second night in a row.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading.
> 
> And a special thank you to everyone who has left kudos or comments on this series so far, some of you even on every part. They're all so inspiring to read. Truly, thank you.


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